It's about their innocent perspective, and how their freedom from embarrassment means they just say whatever is in their little hearts.
This post isn't about one of those moments.
I picked up Flea from her summer nursery yesterday and – as is usual – she sat in the back of the car chatting away, telling me about all the boys she's played with that day (Flea doesn't *do* girls).
"I played with Sean, Mummy, and we played mummies and babies," she said.
This seemed an unusual game for my child, who's more likely to play pirates or knights, so I admit to feeling a warm little glow at the idea of her playing such a lovely, nurturing game. Maybe she's more in touch with her feminine side than I thought. "Aw, that's lovely darling. How do you play that?"
"Well, the Mummy and baby have to lie down under the slide."
"Are they asleep?" I asked, expecting her to tell me about tucking them in, perhaps giving the baby some milk.
"No. They are dying because the monsters shooted them with guns."